


Stay

by oninofukuchou (OrderOfRevan)



Category: Hakuouki
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Introspection, Once More I Write For a Nearly Dead Fandom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-20 12:23:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15534165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrderOfRevan/pseuds/oninofukuchou
Summary: Hijikata Toshizo thinks entirely too much about all the wrong things and he knows it.





	1. "I Need You"

He can’t remember when it changed. 

One second she was just a girl who’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time and the next he was relying on her to hold him together. Hadn’t even realized it, either, until he’d left her behind and every step away from her shattered him more and more, until he found himself three months and too many miles apart. 

And then he was alone, truly alone, his duties taking him away from Shimada and Souma and the few stubborn bastards who clung to the last vestiges of the Shinsengumi like they were a life line. They flew the Makoto in their hearts, let it burn in their eyes, and it inspired every man who’d come out here to hold on to the last scraps of what was good of the last two-hundred and sixty years. 

Hell, wasn’t he doing the same thing? 

And it was good to see.

It really was. 

It made him feel like everyone who had died had died for a reason, like the string of deaths that had been so pointless at the time were brought into sharp focus. For the first time he could really see what they’d died for -- 

Not just for him, but for the dream he’d given them, that they were all true warriors who’d given their all to keep the embodiment of that dream alive. 

That’s why he had to live, but without her… 

He knew there was no reason to make it past the spring. 

After all, everything was going to end. 

The Shinsengumi, the bakufu, bushido itself --

It would die in Hakodate, and in its place the Choshu would forge a new future. 

A new Japan. 

And through it all, his mind kept wandering to her, thoughts dwelling on her, dreams of her invading his damn brain even when he wasn’t awake. He’d picture the way she’d cried for him when Hazama’s silvery blade had left him at death’s door, of her fingers brushing against his when she handed him is tea, and of the way she’d leaned against his back and simply been with him when Kondou had... gone. 

His soul, like it or not, ached for that reassurance and he wished he never would have sent her away … Even though he would do it again and again and again, just to know that somewhere there was someone who had gotten out of this alive. Out there, beyond this desolate winter wasteland, the heartbreak inside of her would melt away and bloom into beautiful happiness that he never could have given her. 

And in spite of all that… 

Hijikata had no way of knowing when Yukimura had become the rope that tethered him to life and sanity. 

So he worked, because when he wasn’t working he thought about her. 

His every waking breath was consumed by the Shinsengumi and this damn war, or else by her, even as he knew that his life was fading away and that soon he’d crumble to dust and be nothing or else die on the sword like he damn well meant to. 

Even in the midst of the horrible pains that wracked his body less and less often now that he’d come here, his mind would imagine her, her fine features gazing down at him with infinitely baffling tenderness. He’d fucking hate himself, too, because he’d think about her blood, about the curve of her neck and damn -- Damn -- Damn, he was such a bastard! Even if she didn’t scar, it wouldn’t matter because he was ruining her chances at finding some guy to shelter her from all this shit…

And what he really wanted was for Yukimura to be happy. 

(Some part of him knew that he wanted her to be happy with  _ him _ , but he would never admit that because admitting that would destroy him). 

So when she showed up in his office just like she was meant to be there, he was rendered momentarily speechless and wondered if the ochimizu had finally managed to steal the last of his sanity. After all, the only way she could be there was if he was hallucinating her, though he had no idea why he’d picture her in Western clothing… Even if they did suit her, in an odd way. 

It was only when she handed him the orders and he realized that bastard Otori had actually brought her here, that his every effort to protect her had been thrown to the wind by a fucking piece of parchment. 

“Take this back,” he said, shoving it at her, feeling no satisfaction at the stricken expression on her face. “I don’t approve these orders.”

Hijikata could only watch as emotions wavered across her always earnest features, reminded again that he valued her so much because she was a warrior, but still a woman. There was so much that she could show him with just a twitch of her lips or the furrow of her eyebrows or the scrunch of her nose… 

Or in this case, the trembling of her fingers when she lifted her chin high and tore the orders into pieces, casting them onto the floor. 

They drifted down, and for a moment they almost looked like sakura blossoms. 

“Fine,” Yukimura said in a voice both soft and somehow resonant, “I don’t need the orders. I shouldn’t have relied on them in the first place. I’m here because I want to be here.” 

He watched as she took a step forward and suddenly felt caged against the bulk of his Western-style desk. 

“Let me stay with you, Hijikata-san,” she pleaded. “I want to be here… You…” Yukimura shook her head, flyaway strands of dark hair escaping from the restraints of her top knot. “I want to help you.” 

They were the same words she’d always spoken to him, but with one very important addition. 

The word ‘you’ made him feel like he’d been punched in the gut, all the wind knocked out of him. And he remembered when he’d told her a long time ago not to bow to anyone if she believed in something, that there’s no point in it… So here she was, staring up at him with a tremble in her lip and her hands balled into fists at her sides. 

It left him with the strange, small hope that maybe he meant as much to her as she meant to him. 

But he swallowed it like it was Ishida Medicinal Powder, the bitter truth that she couldn’t stay, and opened his mouth to object only for her to silence him with a glare. 

“Don’t do this!” she shouted, taking another step towards him. “You always do this! You destroy yourself trying to help everyone else and then make decisions for us without ever asking how we feel!” 

In her eyes, the beginnings of tears began to glisten and he hated himself for ever doing this to her… Again, and again, and again… Like all he could do was make her fucking cry. Hell, she’d been scared shitless of him for a long time, hadn’t she? So maybe that was still the case. 

Maybe nothing had really changed. 

“I want to help you!” the words echoed again, rattling inside of his head and reminding him of the reprimands of his sister when he was still just a kid. “You can’t do this alone anymore, Hijikata-san!” 

And it was then that he knew he couldn’t fight her anymore. 

“... Fine,” he said with a breathless chuckle, hating how weak his resolve was in the face of her earnest tears. “Shoulda figured it would end up this way. Damn Edo women…” 

He took one step forward and then another, her body small and warm, her skin soft against his calloused fingers when he reached out to brush away her tears. Underneath his touch she tensed, but then leaned into it, as if this was all she had ever wanted. 

As if this was where she belonged. 

There were so many things he wasn’t ready to say yet, but… 

There were also things she needed to hear. 

So Hijikata reached out and pulled her against his chest, soothing his fingers through the soft tresses of her thick hair, feeling the heat of her pressed against his body. Yukimura was so small, but when he held her he realized how much she had really changed, that she wasn’t quite that scrawny boyish kid in the Kyoto alleyway anymore, that time had changed them both. 

And by all the gods and spirits he knew, he was a fucking idiot for not realizing that sooner. 

“I’ve had a lot of time to think,” he muttered so that only she could possibly hear him, the light of the day beginning to fade as his office was bathed in orange and red, “and I realized something important.” 

She didn’t answer, so he just pushed on, refusing to let go of her now that he had her.

Inside of him, his heart swelled and he hated how needy he was, but… 

“When I think about it, you’re probably the person who’s seen me at my worst,” Hijikata admitted, feeling her small arms slowly wind around him as she pressed herself somehow even closer. “Through all the shit I’ve seen and done, it was always you supporting me through it. Without you, I don’t really know what would have happened.” 

He laughed, his eyes flickering slowly closed as he bowed his head and pressed his face into her hair. She smelled like winter, like tea leaves and smoke, like new fabric, and it was comforting just to have her back, to know that he wasn’t alone anymore. 

The one person who’d carried every burden with him was here again, in his arms. 

Yukimura. 

Overwhelming him completely, reminding him how weak he really was, and that somehow… 

With her, he didn’t mind. 

“Stay with me,” he managed, listening to the sob of relief that pushed past her lips as she buried her face in his chest and her tears stained his waistcoat. “I need you, Yukimura.” 

She cried, but he was sure that this time… 

This time it was because she’d won and her battle was finally over. 


	2. "Memories of Mibu"

“How are you adjusting?” 

She blinked at him from where she sat, mending the clothes he’d asked her to attend to, her dark eyes searching his face for a moment before she smiled. He watched as she placed her sewing down for a moment to brush a strand of her hair behind an ear, glancing to the points of her fingers in a way that was reserved but not quite shy. 

“The base is big,” she said, “and I’m not really used to the Western furnishings yet, but everyone’s been very accommodating…” Her eyes flickered downwards, hidden by her long lashes, and not for the first time he wondered how the hell anyone could mistake her for a boy. “I like the work I’m doing, too, Hijikata-san. You sure keep me busy.” 

In spite of himself, he couldn’t help but smile. 

Damn Yukimura, always so earnest, so eager. 

It was endearing, which was at least something he could finally admit to himself. 

“You have an important role here,” he said with a wry smile, placing his brush down on the desk. “In fact, I’d say you’re vital to morale.” 

Her face flushed, and that was endearing, too. 

“I-if you say so,” she managed to stutter, turning her attention back to her mending, worrying her lip between her teeth. “I … I have a hard time believing…” 

She trailed off at the sound of the floorboards creaking underneath him as he padded quietly across the carpet towards her. Yukimura looked stunned to see him suddenly standing by her little chair, and hell, so was he. 

It’s not like he had planned this. 

His hand fell atop her head as he exhaled, licking his lips. 

“Yukimura,” Hijikata muttered, “I’d better not be about to hear you say something stupid.”

“No, Hijikata-san… I mean… I just… I’m just one person,” she managed, wilting underneath his gaze somewhat and doing exactly what she said she wasn’t going to do. 

“And?” he asked, leaning forward and quirking a brow at her. 

“W-well… I... “ 

She squeaked when he dropped his hand, pressing a finger against her lips, forgetting to be nervous around him in her surprise. Instead she stared up at him with her large, dark brown eyes, so close now that he could almost see his own reflection in them, and sucked in a shuddering breath. 

“Shut up,” he ordered quietly. “Didn’t I say I need you, Yukimura?” 

He didn’t wait for her to answer, didn’t want to hear whatever stupid shit she’d dreamed up in that pretty head of hers. 

“That hasn’t changed, and it’s not gonna change, so as long as I need you, this army needs you.” 

That pretty blush returned and he smiled before he drew away, walking back towards his desk. 

Before long, she was sewing again and leaving him alone with his thoughts. Not like they needed to talk all the time, so long as she was here and he could ask her the things he needed to hear. Like whether or not he’d done the right thing, and if she thought that he’d changed. 

And always she’d answer honestly.

She didn’t tell him what he wanted to hear cause she was afraid or just to humor him. 

Hell, no one really did anymore. 

It all made looking back at that man with the long, black hair and the sour expressions hard -- Not like he was looking at a mirror but like he was a different person. The core of him had never once really changed, he knew that, Kondou had known that, and now she knew it, too, but… 

To the rest of the world, he’d just been a monster. 

“Do you think they’re watching us, Hijikata-san?” she suddenly asked. 

“You mean those who left us behind, right?” He said, not really intending for her to answer. “Wherever they are, I bet they’re finally at peace. Bastards earned it. Just hope that I’m making them proud.” 

She didn’t answer right away, looking shocked, batting her lashes at him slowly before she swallowed and her tongue darted out to lick her lips. Yukimura didn’t look like just herself right now, and he remembered all the promises she’d made -- 

To Yamazaki, to Gen-san, to Saito… 

All promises to look after him. 

Maybe… if they were watching him… 

It was through her eyes. 

“You are,” she said, so fervent that it matched the heat of the blush on her cheeks. “The Shinsengumi is alive and well! Everything they lived for,” she looked away from him and her eyes filled with tears again, “died for… It lives on through you and the men who survived!” 

“You think?” he asked, not really meaning for her to answer. 

Suddenly, it was all too fucking much and he was back in Kyoto, in Mibu, and they were all around him. Todou was struggling to get his food back from Nagakura while Harada laughed at them with his eyes. Saito and Souji sat on the other side of the room and the one was alive and the other wasn’t fucking dying because his own lungs decided to kill him. At one side, Sanan sat, smiling with serenity, no longer robbed of his very purpose by an injury or warped by the ochimizu. Yamazaki shadowed them all, standing just behind Gen-san, who was smiling at them all with fatherly kindness (something Hijikata would never have or be), and at his other side… 

Kondou, looking at him with warmth. 

Warmth that he wasn’t even sure he’d deserved anymore, but… 

He wanted. 

He missed. 

And he couldn’t spit on what Kondou had done for him by… By giving up and walking away. By shrugging off this burden at the last moment, because Kondou had died so that he could live. For once, he’d been the one to make the sacrifice, stopped the self-destruction he’d embraced, put a halt to the ‘at all costs’ attitude. 

In his heart, they were all together still. 

His stupid bastards. 

His brothers. 

“Damn, I…” he breathed out a shy and shook his head, threading his fingers through his own hair. “Shimada and Souma, all the guys that are left, I keep thinking that they’re true samurai. No more reason to be an oni, right?” 

And she smiled, warmth spreading through his chest at the sight. 

It made him feel… 

He didn’t even know anymore how Yukimura made him feel. 

But if anyone touched a hair on her head, he’d fucking kill them. 

He’d make sure that they could never touch her again. 

Because she… 

She was there, too, when he thought about that night at Shimabara, about Mibu, about the times before everything went to shit. Back when he could say it all felt like a dream he’d never wake up from, even though he’d never take any of it back, not really. She was there, inside of his mind, wandering around inside of his head and touching his soul in places that he… 

Hijikata shook his head and dispelled the thoughts before they carried him to a place he couldn’t follow. 

“You’ve changed,” said Yukimura, her voice driving him from his own head. “I’m glad.” 

He could only smile at her, feeling his mouth pull up at the sides, and after years it felt odd to do but… 

Damn, if it didn’t feel good. 

“Yukimura,” he said quietly, not sure what he wanted to say, looking at all the paperwork piled up on his desk before he sighed. 

She looked at him with rapt interest, awaiting every word from his mouth like they sustained her. 

The smile didn’t leave his lips. 

Finally, he gestured vaguely towards the door and spoke.

“Make me some tea.” 

And like always, she did. 

Hijikata was glad that some things never changed.


	3. "A Tender Truth"

Somewhere in the blend of days before the end, he realized he was happy. 

It felt stupid as shit to admit to it, even when the Republic of Ezo and Hakodate and everything it stood for would come to a glorious end after flowering for a season. But it was true regardless, that he’d found some kind of satisfaction in the desk work and these little jobs ever since Yukimura came back. 

Didn’t make the hard news any easier to swallow. 

Every death, every stupid thing the Empire of Japan did -- 

It sent him reeling, but with her he was treading water. 

Even in ‘cold as a hag’s tit’ Ezo. 

So, walking side by side with her around Hakodate, back to Goroyaku, it was easy for him to slip off the coat he was wearing and drape it around her shoulders. It was even easier for him to take satisfaction from the slightly surprised look that spread across her features as he did so, though she quickly wrapped it tightly about her. 

Yukimura had a way of making everything adorable. 

Not that ‘adorable’ was a word he’d ever really use, but she really did. 

Cheeks rosy with the cold, smiling at him while she talked about this thing and that -- Otori-san insisting she have access to the kitchens any time of night so that she could always make him tea, Enomoto-san teaching her about different Western games to play with packs of cards, Shimada-san praising her cooking when she brought him leftover rice balls…  

He drank it all in, realized that he could listen to her talk forever, that he was somehow clinging to every damn inanity like it was a life line. 

Hijikata Toshizo had never really wanted a domestic life, ever since he was a bright-eyed kid dreaming about great battles and a life different than that of some rural bum. Samurai through and through, it’d been a part of who he was before he even realized that it’s what he wanted. 

But Yukimura made him want … Quiet. 

Quiet and normal, because she could make anything interesting. 

Because with Yukimura there was no such thing as boredom. 

He reached out, placing his hand on the small of her back, his lips twitching at the look of surprise on her face as they ducked back through the door. The flush on her cheeks brightened, and he’d admit to himself that he was damn satisfied to see it, knowing that he was the cause. 

“Why don’t you make some tea?” he asked, helping her shrug off his coat, “and don’t forget to make some for yourself. You look like you’re freezing your ass off.” 

“O-of course, Hijikata-san!” she said with a small bow. “I’ll take it to your office when I finish!”

And with that, she bounded away. 

He watched after her for a moment, reaching up to run his thumb thoughtfully over his lips. His entire body going stiff when he felt the presence of someone at his side, his head turning to look towards Otori-san. 

He was still a bastard, of course, bringing Yukimura here in the first place. And he was damn Western, dressed even more like a Westerner than most of them were… But it was something he and Enomoto-san had in common, and, hell, without them they’d be a lot worse off. 

Besides, there was something to be admired in the former leader of Denshu Company. 

Working under someone with a good working knowledge of strategy, someone who respected him… It was a nice change of pace from the fucking Bakufu. 

Kind of an ironic statement, all things considered, but he’d never been doing this for them anyway. 

“She really has much improved your mood, Hijikata-kun,” Otori-san said with a small smile. “You seem far more at peace when she’s out and about, and she’s such a loyal and dedicated attendant.” 

“She’s a good kid,” he agreed with a small nod, “though I guess I shouldn't call her that anymore. Yukimura’s been through just as much shit as we all have and she’s grown a lot through all of it. I’ve just… Known her a long time now.” 

“I was wondering… Where did you meet her?” Otori-san asked as the two of them began the walk to his office. “I asked her, once, but she just told me you’d met in Kyoto five years ago.” 

“Well, she’s not wrong,” Hijikata said. “We met in Kyoto. She was being chased by ronin late one night and we took the bastards out. After that… We just had similar goals, so we took her into custody. The rest is history.” 

“I can hardly imagine what that had to be like,” the other man mused, “being a lone young woman taken in by the infamous Shinsengumi. Of course, I know you better now… But your reputation was quite fearsome.” 

“Oh, I was a bastard,” he said with a snort. “All piss and vinegar. I have no idea why she even likes me, if I’m being blunt.” 

Otori-san laughed, watching as Hijikata opened the doors to his office. 

“Are you ever not blunt, Hijikata-kun?” he asked with a warm smile. “I’m sure that the you who serves these men so selflessly has always existed and that Yukimura-chan was just seeing past your admittedly rough exterior. Believe me when I’m say of how deserved your reputation is… But…” 

He placed a hand on Hijikata’s shoulder as he passed into the office, pausing as he walked past him. “Just because you earned a reputation doesn’t mean you don’t have many other qualities. Besides… You’re a samurai, aren’t you?” 

“I doubt anyone other than you and the Shinsengumi sees me that way at this point,” Hijikata said, “but that’s what I’d like to think.” 

He walked towards its desk, taking a seat and looking at the heavy stacks of parchment. There was a shit ton to work through, naturally -- he was the one doing the leg work for Otori-san so he could focus on dealing with the bureaucrats and the foreigners. It meant he was responsible for the personnel, which would have been a nightmare for the man he was five years ago.

Now… 

It was different. 

_ He _ was different. 

“So,” Hijikata said, straightening out the long coat tails of his jacket, “to what do I owe the distinct pleasure of your visit, Otori-san?”

“I wanted to discuss the fortifications of Benten Fortress with your further,” the Minister of War said, “and maybe get your opinion on the presence of the French here.”

“Frankly, I’ll take any damn help we can get,” he leaned back in his seat and crossed one leg over the other, trying not to dwell too long on how surreal this all was. “Funny, coming from the guy who was trying to drive them out five years ago, but shit changes. Even if they don’t have the support of their government, I’m not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.”

“That’s right,” Otori-san mused, “the Shinsengumi supported Dispel the Foreigners. You seem oddly open minded for a man of that stance.”

“I supported it because they didn’t have any damn business getting involved, but it wasn’t personal. I figure there’s not really much difference between my family and some framers off in France or… Hell, America.” 

There was a knock on the door, and Hijikata welcomed their guest.

It was Yukimura, of course, the tray holding three cups of tea. She carefully served the both of them first and then went to sit down in her little chair, he fingers wrapped around her cup to help warm them. 

He smiled, gazing at her for a moment before turning his attention completely towards business. Time ticked on until supper, when Otori-san quietly excused himself to other business with Enomoto-san and the others, leaving Hijikata and Yukimura alone once more. Leaning back, his chair creaked underneath him as he let out a long sigh and closed his eyes, stretching his stiff legs. 

He counted the seconds until she spoke, his lips twitching up into a smile when he heard her voice.

“Are you hungry, Hijikata-san?” 

“Yes,” he said, “but I was thinking we could eat in here today. Together, if doesn’t bother you.” 

He could hear her scrambling to her feet, eagerly chirping her assent as she scurried away. The door shut behind her, leaving him by himself for the first time since that morning. In some ways it was a bit of a relief, but… 

Hijikata found himself looking forward to spending time with Yukimura. 

Privacy was important to him, but with her around… It didn’t seem to matter as much. She almost made him feel like he was alone except that he also got a sense of comfort from her presence. He’d grown used having her around, to what it felt like to just be with Yukimura, and more and more… 

He was starting to realize that his attachment to her wasn’t strictly platonic. 

She brought things to the surface he hadn’t felt since he was a stupid brat falling in love for the first time. It was more mature, deeper, came from somewhere so far inside of himself he’d thought it had gone out and died on him the moment he’d embraced the “Oni” title, but there it was. 

It wasn’t just to have some part of the Shinsengumi left that he’d abandoned her.

It was because he… 

Hijikata breathed out slowly, running his hand over his face, laughing silently until his shoulders shook. 

Fuck.

He was such an idiot.

He was in love with her. 

He… Loved Yukimura. 

She was important to him in a way almost nothing else other than the Shinsengumi and their ideals ever had been. Somehow, she’d come to cradle his heart in her two, small hands, to endear herself in a way that made him want to do more than just die to protect her.

He wanted to  _ live _ for her.

_ With _ her. 

How it had happened, when it had happened, he had no fucking clue, but… 

She had saved him. 

She’d pulled him out of the mire of resignation in which he’d been living, out of the depression that came from losing the one person he’d loved the most, and given him a second chance. 

Hijikata couldn’t die. 

Not if death meant never seeing her again, not if it meant he couldn’t hold her in his arms or listen to her chatter about inanities in her passionate, soft-spoken way. He wanted nothing more than to reassure her of her worth, and wondered if the reason she saw so little of her value was because he’d never valued to affirm it. 

He needed to live. 

For awhile longer, while he waited for her, all he could do was think about the tender feelings inside of him, and wonder how it had taken so long for him to realize the truth. 


End file.
